The next day Bob was in London. He had engaged chambers in the Temple
in order to prepare for his examinations. In spite of what he had said
to Professor Renthall, his old opinions remained unshaken. It might be
right, it undoubtedly was right, to defend the weak against brutal
strength in the way he had done, but war between nations was different.
He simply could not participate in it.
He had been stigmatised as a coward, and as a traitor to his country,
but still he must be true to his conscience.
Law and order were different from the arbitrament of the sword. War
was a violation of all that was best and noblest in humanity, and he
must walk along the lines he had marked out.
Still he could not get away from the spirit of the times. The one
subject talked about in restaurants, in clubs, in offices, and in the
streets was this bloody carnage which was convulsing Europe. Almost
every vehicle that passed was placarded with a call to war. Every
newspaper he opened was full of news of the war. Even the religious
papers seemed to have forgotten that the Gospel of Christ was the
Gospel of Peace.
It was true that here and there were letters from correspondents
protesting against the whole horrible business, but these were in the
main, at a discount.
After he had been in London a few days, he happened to get hold of a
German newspaper, and there he read the German side of the question.
This newspaper pleaded that the Kaiser never wanted war. That he had
struggled against war, and that during the whole of his reign, war had
been kept at arm's length. If the Kaiser loved war, the paper urged,
the country would not have remained at peace so long, seeing that never
since 1870 had Germany drawn the sword. Now that war was forced upon
them, the people were only doing what they were obliged to do.
One evening he dined at a small hotel, and, having found his way to the
smoke-room after dinner, he met a man from Cornwall with whom he was
slightly acquainted.
They talked about other things at first, but were eventually led to the
one subject of the times.
"Do you know," said the man from Cornwall, Richards by name, "that I
heard a strange story the other day?"
"What story?"
"A man with whom I am acquainted, a financier from Alsace, told me that
he, with two other bankers, were some weeks ago dining with the Kaiser;
and the Kaiser spoke to them about the mission of Germany. He said
that a great part of Europe was paralysed by materialism, that
immorality had eaten out the best life of France, and was fast finding
its way into the vitals of England. That Germany was called by God to
purify Europe, and that he who was anointed by God to reign over
Germany, felt it his duty to fight against this scourge of materialism
and immorality. In no other way could Europe be saved from infidelity
and ruin, and that he, the Kaiser, was raised up as a scourge of God.
That just as Jesus Christ drove the hucksters and money-lenders out of
the Temple when He was on earth, so was he, the Kaiser, called upon to
cleanse Europe, and that this war was God's crusade to bring back
Europe to purity and righteousness."
"Your informant told you this?"
"Yes. He said that the Kaiser was undoubtedly sincere, and was one of
the most religious men he had ever met. Of course the man is mad, but
there is not the slightest doubt but that he believes this."
When Mr. Richards had gone, Bob felt very lonely. He wanted to get
away from his sad thoughts, wanted to blot from his memory the facts
which had seemingly blighted his life. He was alone in London; he had
no friend to whom he could go. Of course a hundred places of amusement
were open, but he did not feel in the humour to go to them. He dreaded
the thought of going back to his chambers, while the streets repelled
him.
He glanced around the smoke-room, and noticed that it was peculiarly
shaped, and then, looking behind a huge palm, he saw an alcove which he
had not hitherto noticed. Sitting in it, he would be completely hidden
from the rest of the room, and yet could command a view of a great part
of it. The place was quite empty, and, although in the heart of
London, singularly quiet. Acting on impulse, he threw himself into a
chair behind the palm, and prepared to light another cigar.
He had scarcely taken his seat in the alcove when two men entered and
summoned a waiter. The man fulfilled their orders and left the room.
One of the men got up and looked around. "We are lucky," he said;
"there's not a soul here."
"Yes, we have an opportunity for our chat. Not that there's much
difficulty anywhere. The English people are the most unsuspicious in
the world. No matter what nationality a man may be, he is absolutely
free to go where he likes, and do what he likes."
"Except the Germans and Austrians," and the other laughed meaningly.
"Yes, yes, and aren't their precautions silly? Because our parents
thought it wise to educate us in England, we speak the language like
natives, and are looked upon as thorough John Bulls. Heavens, if they
only knew!"
Bob's pulses began to quicken. Surely he had seen one of them before.
Where, he could not tell, but both face and voice were familiar.
Evidently they had no idea that he was near. Even if they looked
towards him, he was hidden from them by the huge palm fronds.
"Yes," responded the other. "Of all the guileless people in the world,
these British fools are the worst. Here are you and I regarded as
English people. We do what we like, we go where we like, and they
welcome us. It is true, since the war broke out, they have taken all
sorts of precautions against what they call German spies. But, bah!
they are as easy to deceive as children. Why, only a week or two ago,
by the simplest ruse imaginable, I obtained some valuable information
down in Cornwall."
Again Bob looked at the face, and wondered. The speaker was a
middle-aged man, and spoke without the slightest suggestion of a
foreign accent. He would pass anywhere as an Englishman. He had an
air of assurance too, as though it were his habit to move in good
society. Dress, manner, and general appearance suggested an Englishman
of good standing and yet he spoke as an enemy to the country.
"In Cornwall, eh? That's an out-of-the-way part of the country."
"Yes, in Cornwall. It was at a little fishing village called St. Ia.
I laugh when I think of it, the whole thing was so amusing."
Bob gave a start. He knew who was speaking now. His whole appearance
had changed, but he could not help penetrating his disguise. It was
the man who had called himself Count von Weimer--an Alsatian whose
sympathies were so strongly French, and who had come to Cornwall for
peace. The simplicity, and yet the audacity, of his action made Bob
wonder.
Forgetful of the fact that he was playing the part of an eavesdropper,
he sat still, and listened.
"Yes, I promised I'd tell you about it," the man went on, "although,
strictly speaking, I ought to say nothing. Still, the matter is over
and done with now, and the information lodged in the right quarter;
besides we, to an extent, work together, so it will be all right. As
you know, I was instructed to obtain information on certain naval
matters, and I had a great difficulty in getting it. You see, I
couldn't get introduced in the right quarters. By and by I discovered
that a retired Admiral who was in the secrets of the Admiralty lived in
a little out-of-the-way place in Cornwall. I learnt all that was
possible about his fads and prejudices, and then went down there as an
Alsatian."
"An Alsatian, eh?"
"Yes, as an Alsatian, who, although bearing a German name, was a
suspect by the Germans on account of his love of France. It was a move
which presented certain difficulties, but, having considered
everything, I thought it best to risk it. You see, I went down as a
lover of peace, as one who was tired of the militarism of Germany and
wanted the quiet and rest which only such a place could afford."
Both of the men laughed heartily at this.
"Of course I looked the part. I adopted the circular spectacles, and
assumed the manner befitting my role. I knew that a Count von Weimer
lived in Alsace, knew also that this old fool of an Admiral had heard
of him. So I went to the golf links."
"Golf links?"
"Yes. I knew that a young chap called Nancarrow often played there,
and that he was very friendly with the Admiral's family. A worshipper
of his daughter in fact. This Nancarrow is of Quaker descent on his
father's side, and is a sort of peace-at-any-price fellow. Rather a
nice chap, but brought up with his father's notions. As luck would
have it, a match had been arranged between Nancarrow and a rival for
the Admiral's daughter's affections, and the old man was present. You
see, my star was in the ascendant. Of course I followed the match as
an ignorant but ardent admirer of the game."
"I see. Spare me the details."
"Pooh! the tricks of a child! I feel almost ashamed of them! Of
course I made no attempt to get introduced to the old fool just then,
but in Continental fashion I praised the prowess of the young one. I,
the simple foreigner, thought him wonderful! Eh?"
"Just so."
"Naturally I met him later--of course by accident. I played my cards
carefully. I was a rich man charmed by the place, and was on the look
out for a house to buy. What could one want more? Eh?"
"Exactly."
"Of course I had seen a house of the Admiral's that was for sale, and I
hated dealing with house agents. Would it be possible to deal direct
with the Admiral? The little fly walked into my parlour at the first
invitation, and two or three days later I was introduced to the
Admiral. Your line of work has not drawn you into contact with this
class of man. A typical John Bull, my dear chap. Blunt,
straightforward, above board. No diplomacy, no _arrière pensée_, but
loud-voiced and hearty. Proud as Lucifer in one way, but as gullible
as a hedgehog. English, quite English, you know, with a proper scorn
for everything that isn't English. The British Navy, you know--the
British Navy can defy the world!
"Of course I was ignorant of the British Navy. I was not anxious to
hear anything about it. I was keen to buy or rent his house, and I was
able to refer to the names of men who were just slightly above the
Admiral in social position. Of course one can't take a house without
some palaver, and one meeting led to another. Naturally I offered my
cheque as a deposit, and a guarantee of my good faith. I was invited
to dinner, and then, without the old buffer suspecting anything, I drew
the truth from him as easily as a wine waiter draws the cork out of a
champagne bottle. I learnt man--I learnt----" and his voice became so
low that Bob could not catch what he said.
"By Jove, that was a haul!"
"A haul! I should think it was. It told me what our people were
willing to give their eyes to know. And the best of it was, he did not
think he was telling me anything! Ah, you should have seen me, the
mild-eyed Alsatian pleading the uselessness of a big navy, and he, to
prove me in the wrong, giving me all sorts of information. Of, course,
when I had sucked him dry, I hooked it. I paid him for my information;
all the same, I got it cheaply. A year's rent for his house! I expect
he is wondering why I don't come and take possession."
"The British are fools!"
The other laughed. "Fools, yes, but arrogant fools, proud fools,
dangerous fools too, in a way. They are what we are not, and what we
are destined to be--a World Power. But the reckoning day has come."
"Do you think so? That is, do you think this is the right moment for
the war? Of course it had to come--we had made up our minds to that;
but don't you think William forced the pace too soon? Surely he meant
to crush France, and control her navy before he angered the little dog
which calls itself the British Lion. I had always reckoned England's
turn would come about 1920."
"Perhaps you are right; but the result will be the same. Austria will
deal with Russia and the Balkan States while William marches to Paris;
then, when we have a repetition of 1870, we can go back and settle
Russia."
"The English generally put up a good fight!"
"A pricked bubble, my dear fellow. It took the whole British Empire
four years to deal with about 70,000 Boer farmers; how then can it do
anything against us? Aren't facts speaking aloud? In about three
weeks we have armies within twenty miles of Paris. In another week
that capital will be in our hands. What is the use of Kitchener's
absurd army? Before it can do anything, England will be on its knees.
As for the French! Bah!"
"And meanwhile we play our little game here."
"Yes, John Bull may have the heart of a lion, but he hasn't the brains
of a water-hen. Oh, John is hospitable, very hospitable. You and I,
my dear Charles, with hundreds more, go around as Englishmen. Doesn't
John scorn a spy? That's why we can go everywhere. At present I am
London born, never having been out of England in my life. I know the
Stock Exchange inside and out. I am a city man! And who suspects?
There are over 20,000 Germans in London, all registered, yes, _all_
registered. Meanwhile--eh?"
"But if we are beaten!"
"We can't be. It is impossible. The time-table will be kept. But oh,
I can't help laughing! They never suspected our designs, never
imagined the game we have been playing. They were just contented with
their contemptible little army, and they allowed us to learn their
secrets, not dreaming that England will be a vassal state to Germany,
and that all her colonies will be ours. But there is that other
matter. I want to speak about it. You remember that at the close of
the Boer War----"
During the whole time Bob had listened like a man in a dream. He felt
as though he were standing on the brink of a precipice. His eyes were
opened to truths that he never dreamt of. He saw that for years there
had been a deliberate plot to conquer England, that the Kaiser had not
only made Germany an armed camp, and had strained every nerve to
construct the greatest and most powerful and complete fighting machine
the world had ever known, but he had sent an army of spies to the
country to learn her secrets and fasten upon her weaknesses. He
realised that the Kaiser had been our enemy during all the years he had
been pretending to be our friend. He had been spending vast sums of
money on men and women who were willing to do the dirtiest kind of
work, in order that he might cause our downfall.
His honest, straightforward nature revolted at it. These two men were
spies, traitors. He wondered at their speaking so freely, that they
had not taken greater precaution to make sure no one was near. But the
room was peculiarly shaped, and it was difficult for them to see the
recess in which he sat, hidden as it was by the huge palm. To all
appearance the place was empty.
Again he acted on impulse. Forgetting the rights and wrongs of the
situation, he felt he must act. Looking through the fronds of the
palm, he saw that the two men were conversing eagerly. Behind him was
a door, but where it led he did not know. He must get out without
their being aware of his presence.
Silently he opened the door, and soon found himself in the domestic
portion of the little hotel. A waiter looked at him questioningly.
Bob held up his finger to command silence.
"Show me to the manager, at once," he said.
The waiter instinctively felt how much in earnest he was, and obeyed
him.
"This way, sir," he whispered.
"There are two German spies in the smoke-room," Bob said to the manager
a minute later, and he explained how he had been led to this conclusion.
"Did you serve two men in the smoking-room?" asked the manager, turning
to the waiter.
"Yes, sir, I served them each with a whisky-and-soda. But they are not
Germans, sir, I'll swear to that."
"We'll see, anyhow," was the manager's response. "You guard your door
carefully, and I'll go in at the public entrance. Will you come with
me, sir."
The manager led Bob to the door by which he had first entered the room,
and then they both entered silently.
The room was empty; the two men had gone.
"But can't we do anything?" asked Bob.
"What can we do, sir? If you were mistaken, then no harm is done. If
you were not, they must have seen you leave the room, and then made
their way out. I'll speak to the hall-porter. There are very few
people here to-night, and he will know how many people have gone out
during the last five minutes."
"Yes," the hall-porter declared a few seconds later, "two gentlemen
have just gone out in a hurry. They said they were late for an
appointment, and had to make haste."
"Did you recognise them?" asked the manager.
"I've seen them here once or twice before," was the porter's reply,
"but I know nothing about them."
The manager looked at Bob in despair. "You see how it is, sir. I
daresay you are right. London is just infested with them, and in spite
of all our precautions they just laugh at us."
Bob went back to his chambers and tried to reflect on what he had
heard. On reconsideration he supposed there was not so much in it all,
but he was much disturbed nevertheless. He supposed every government
had its secret information service, but the fact that this man calling
himself Count von Weimer had by lies and fraud found his way into
Admiral Tresize's house, and thereby obtained valuable information
about our Navy, staggered him. From the conversation of the two men,
moreover, it was evident that Germany had always meant to go to war
with England, and had for years been preparing for it. The German army
had evidently been built up for the express purpose, not of defence,
but aggression. They had been waiting for years for a favourable
opportunity, and then, when the time was ripe, to force the pace.
Oh, the madness, the criminal madness of it all!
But it was worse than madness. There was an awful danger about it all.
He opened the evening paper he had just bought, and read the staring
headlines.
GERMAN ARMY WITHIN A FEW MILES OF PARIS.
FRENCH GOVERNMENT REMOVED TO BORDEAUX.
Of course all sorts of theories were propounded. This was all strategy
on the part of General Joffre and Sir John French. They were trying to
draw the Germans from their base of supplies, and that done, would
pounce upon them, and annihilate them.
All this, however, was very unsatisfactory. The truth was, the German
Legions were sweeping all before them.
He turned to an article copied from an American paper, written by a man
who had been admitted into the German lines, and who had gone into the
very heart of the German Headquarters. Bob found his muscles hardening
as he read. The article in graphic language described the countless
hordes in the German army. It told how the writer rode hour after hour
in a swiftly moving motor-car, always through this great seething mass
of the best-trained soldiers in the world. They were not ill-fed
weaklings, either; but young, stalwart, well-fed, strong, the flower of
the German nation.
The camp was a vast moving city of fighting men. Everything was
perfectly arranged to the minutest detail. Nothing was lacking. Every
need was supplied as if by magic. The discipline and order were
perfect. The soldiers were confident and happy.
How could these legions be overcome? Were they not, as the German
General had said, invincible?
"See the accuracy of our big guns," said the General to the newspaper
correspondent. "You see that windmill three miles away. Now watch."
An order was given, and then as if by magic a great gun was directed
towards the distant object. A few seconds later there was a tremendous
explosion, and the windmill was shattered to atoms.
That was it! Germany was a huge fighting machine, and with it the
Kaiser and his minions intended to rule the world!
And if he did? Supposing Germany won in the war, as she was determined
to win? What would be the result? Where would all Bob's dreams and
visions of Universal Peace be?
"No, no!" cried Bob aloud, as if he were answering some pleading voice
of his own heart, "I tell you I can't. The whole thing is ghastly,
hellish! It would be to fight the devil with the devil's weapons. If
I did, I should have to give up my faith in Christ and His salvation.
The sword would take the place of the Cross. I should have to say that
the life and work of Christ are a miserable fiasco, that He Himself was
an idle dreamer. There is no possibility for a man who believes in the
New Testament to take part in this hellish business!"
But if he only could!
All his patriotism, his love of home and country, called to him. For a
moment the longing to take his part in helping England to drive back
this huge fighting octopus, which was longing to stretch out its
tentacles all over Europe, became a passion.
But no, he could not, he simply could not. He was trying to be a
Christian, and no man who followed the Christ Who said "Love your
enemies; . . . if a man strike thee on the right cheek, turn to him the
other also," could volunteer to take part in this bloody welter of the
nations! He had been true to his principles so far, and he would
continue to be true.
But the cost!
Yes, he had counted the cost, and paid it. He had sacrificed the
dearest thing on earth, he had lost the woman he loved. Nancy could
never be his now. She had driven him from her mind and heart, because
she believed him to be a shirker, a recreant, a coward.
He took from his pocket-book the white feather she had given him, and
looked at it. Yes, that was what she thought of him. A coward! And
all the time he would have given anything to be able to offer himself
for the front.
A knock came at the door, and a servant entered bearing a letter.
"It's from my mother," said Bob to himself, as he broke the seal.